Pillow Talk
by SirPrickles
Summary: Bombalurina finds out it's hard to sleep when you've got the Rum Tum Tugger in your bed. Demeter awakens to a strange noise and needs comforting from Munkustrap  and less interference from certain cats . Series; Couples and their "pillow talk"!
1. Rum Tum TuggerxBombalurina

Bombalurina awoke to the sensation of someone pulling on her tail. She moaned and buried her face deeper in the fluffy white pillow beneath her.

But the pulling grew more insistent. And it was all too effective—it was rapidly pulling her out of her dreaming state. She tried to ignore it. She kept her eyes firmly closed.

Now a paw slithered up her side, nails tickling her rib cage. It paused lazily, then drifted back down and settled on her butt. It gave a squeeze.

She jerked upright.

"Alright, Tugger, I'm awake! What do you want?"

In the darkness of her den, he was just a large black mass. Even her cat's eyes couldn't distinguish his trademark gold mane or leopard spots.

But, after a few seconds, her eyes picked up the faint moonlit glow on his face. He was looking at her like the answer to her question was obvious.

Bomba glared at him. He drawled, "I don't feel like sleeping."

"Of course you don't," she said hotly. Her arms were still asleep. She pushed up on them and experimentally flexed her shoulders. She knew the Maine Coon's eyes were fixed on her.

Finally done stretching, she glanced back over at him. He raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather—" and he pounced, unexpectedly, his muscular body wrapping her into a passionate embrace.

His attack was so quick that he caught her mouth open in shock. Bomba forced it closed and tried to push him off. "No! I'm tired. I don't want to."

"C'mon, Bomba," he grinned into her neck, digging his nails into her back, "you always want to."

She resented him saying that. She was a red queen. She had a fiery passionate loving nature. But she was perfectly capable of wanting sleep.

She managed to squirm away. She rolled away to face the den's doorway and closed her eyes in an effort to get back to sleep. It was a bit difficult. Blood was throbbing in her ears and racing through her veins. She wiggled in discomfort. "Go away."

Bomba felt more than heard him lean over her.

"Would you prefer I go to Cassandra?" His voice was low and suggestive.

"Yes," she hissed, ignoring every instinct in her body begging him to stay. "Yes. Go to Cassandra. Let me sleep."

He narrowed his eyes. "What about Jemima? Victoria? Rumpleteazer?"

She didn't respond. Eyelids squeezed together, she forced her mind towards happy dreamy thoughts.

"Munkustrap is out on guard duty…how about I pay a visit to Demeter?"

"Good luck," she whispered, sarcasm heavy. Demeter would rather pull out her own tail than "visit" with the Rum Tum Tugger.

He hissed in her ear, "Demeter! Your own sister!"

"Mm-hmm."

Tugger yanked on her tail. On cue, her big brown eyes flew open. She looked up at him balefully.

"I don't like playing second fiddle to your sleep. You love sleep more than you love me."

Bomba's full lips twisted in a sour expression. "You, my love, are the reason I need sleep. Now, go hang out at your owners', or complain to Mistoffeles. Or even Munk. But I," she declared, scooting away once more and diving back into the pillow, "am going to sleep."

He yawned loudly. Bomba relaxed, just a tiny bit. Maybe he was just tired enough to go to bed without any more trouble. It was possible.

Tugger moved over and pressed against her back. She purred agreeably. She was relieved he was staying and not going out. Demeter might sigh in annoyance, but Bomba was crazy about the maned tom and wanted to spend every moment, awake or asleep, with him.

He wrapped one arm around her curvy waist and the other under her head. She snuggled into him, tension gone.

After a few blissful minutes, Bomba gasped:

"Tugger! Paws!" She grabbed the offending paw and pushed it away.

"Hush, Babe. Go to sleep." He ran his nails through her headfur, which was barely red in the cold blue moonlight. His other paw started to wander again.

Bomba squirmed over to face him. Even in repose he towered over her, all fur and fanged smirk.

"Obviously I can't sleep if you do that…" she said between gritted teeth. The Rum Tum Tugger was hard to live with.

"Why? Do I know how to push—" he grabbed a pawful of her butt and brought her closer—"your buttons?"

She shoved him. "Shoo. Go away. As long as you're here, I won't get any rest."

Tugger grinned outrageously. "That's exactly right—why don't you give in to the inevitable and—Hey. Wait. Where are you going?"

Bomba stood up and fluffed herself out, trying to erase his touch. "I," she said loftily, "am going to Demeter's. As you say, Munk is out tonight."

Tugger was nettled. "Fine. Go to Demeter's. I can go anywhere. I have options."

She ignored him and headed towards the door.

Tugger growled, "Don't walk out that door."

She stopped at the harshness in his tone. She looked back in surprise. He had half-risen from the floor and his tail was beating in irritation.

"Some of us," she shot back, "need sleep. Some of us don't nap all day long. If you want me to stay—" how she relished saying that, knowing now that he did—"you must promise to _behave_." She gazed at him coolly with those big amber eyes.

Tugger scowled and rolled over on his back, defeated. He glared at the ceiling. "Fine. I'll be a good kitty."

Bomba hesitated. She looked longingly at the pillow, then at the large tomcat glaring at the ceiling. Sighing, she dropped to all fours and walked back over. She nuzzled her tomcat.

"Thank you, Tugs. I appreciate it. Good night." She used his chest as a pillow.

He stretched out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He, too, closed his eyes.

Bomba snuggled into him. She inhaled the smell of his fur. She bit her lip. Heat started to course through her body. She nuzzled his face with her nose.

She sighed in frustration. "Oh, all right!"

One sly green eye opened. "What's that? I'm trying to sleep."

She attacked his lips. "Shut up," she breathed between kisses, "this is all your fault!"

"All my fault," he agreed.

"I said shut up." Bomba gripped his face tightly and continued to kiss him, adding a bite here and there.

Tugger pulled her completely on top of him. He dug his claws into the small of her back. She moaned against his mouth.

Next thing she knew, she was up against the cold floor instead of his warm body. Tugger held her down and ran a tongue up her neck, past her chin, over her lips and nose and brow. His claws still kept hold of her hips.

She ran her own claws up his arms, and tousled them in his maned shoulders. But he caught her wrists and pulled her away. He sat up.

Bomba whimpered. The sudden loss was more than she could bear.

"On second thought," he was saying, sounding bored, "I am pretty tired. Perhaps we could continue this later?"

Bomba hissed and wrenched herself out from under him, eyes narrowed into slits. She was at a loss for words.

Tugger yawned, stretching out his tongue.

"You!" Bomba said, enraged. "You—curious—beast!" It was clear this was not a compliment.

He flexed his back and lay back down. "If you promise to _behave_, you can get back over here." He patted his maned chest in invitation.

"Demeter was right about you!"

He rolled his head, cracking the neck. "No one likes to beg, Babe."

"So this is payback?" she nearly shrieked.

He looked at her, full of naughtiness. His green eyes glinted in the faint moonlight.

Bomba jerked herself away. She slunk over to her pillow, which would never treat her like this. She collapsed in it and buried her face so she couldn't see, hear, or smell the tomcat lounging a few yards away. The heat in her veins burned her. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She could still feel him. Only seconds later, he was curled up against her, his chest moving evenly against her back, his tail dangling over her ankle.

Bomba loosened up. She couldn't help it. His presence did that to her. She drew a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

He was wrong. She loved him much more than sleep.

A low rumble emanated from his chest. "Goodnight, Bomba."

She whispered, "Goodnight." Slowly, the tension drained out of her body.

The darkness and warmth were heavenly. She let her gaze drift one more time over the familiar shapes in the faint moonlight of the den, the bureau, the mirror, the rusty old barbeque grail. Everything was right. Everything was here where it should be.

Including the diabolical cat behind her. Bomba stifled a grin.

Finally sleep came to claim her.

But before it succeeded, Bomba's eyes shot open and she squealed:

"Tugger! Paws!"

**A/N: Fluffy fluff. Hee hee.  
**


	2. MunkustrapxDemeter

A faint noise from somewhere outside burrowed into Demeter's ear and woke her, suddenly, leaving her tense and not quite sure why she'd woken.

Demeter blinked twice, forcing her eyes to adjust to the wan light filtering in the darkness of her den. Her ears strained, alert in the night, and Demeter remembered that a sound had jerked her out of a sound slumber.

Was it Munkustrap getting back from patrol? She hoped it was, with all her might. Against her will, the hair rose on the back of her neck, and her breathing grew shallow. Strange noises in the nighttime got an automatic response from her, even though (she knew, she knew!) she should know better.

She didn't dare turn her head—she just flicked her eyes to the right. And breathed a sigh of relief—he was there, a great big striped mound in the dark. Back in from his nightly patrol.

But his side moved up and down evenly, slowly, and his tail did lazy rotations like it always did when he was fast asleep. And if he was fast asleep, he couldn't have made that noise…

Demeter whispered urgently, "Munkustrap?"

He breathed in more deeply. Demeter frowned. Normally he was a light sleeper.

"Munk!" She reached for him tremulously. At the very moment her paw landed on his shoulder, she realized he must be exhausted, much more so than usual. And as he twitched once, sighed, and rolled over to face her, she felt ashamed.

"Dem?" His voice was low, soft, and heavy with fatigue, but filled with his characteristic calm and tenderness. Demeter bit her lower lip.

Munk's steady gray eyes focused in on her guilt-ridden face and body hunched in uncertain worry. "What's wrong?"

She let out a tiny laugh. "Probably nothing. I'm sorry. Go back to sleep."

He did the opposite, rolling onto his stomach and from there to his paws and knees. "Dem…was it a nightmare?" His expression was of the utmost concern.

"No! Nothing of the sort. I just…" she fiddled with her nails and bit her lip again, "thought I heard a noise outside."

Munk said kindly, "What sort of noise?"

Demeter considered, cocking her right ear forward as she did. Several long seconds passed in contemplation, and then she answered:

"Almost…a yelp. Of surprise, I think. It sounded like that."

"No need to worry unless it's Alonzo," Munk said cheerfully, dropping back to his side. "It didn't sound like Alonzo, did it?"

"No. Unless he turned into a queen."

Munk made a noise himself, of the "scoffing" variety. He shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder."

Demeter could tell he was about to give her an example. A smile grew unconsciously, born of relief. Munkustrap could make anything better, just with his presence. He'd calmed her, comforted her, and now he was about to amuse her with stories of Alonzo being queen-like.

She scooted closer, nestling her body into his and nuzzling his face. He turned and kissed her lips soundly. Demeter wiggled in happiness.

Munk smiled down at her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He took a deep breath and said, "The vanity of certain tomcats is beyond me."

Demeter raised her eyebrow playfully. Munk continued, "I expect it from queens…"

She smacked him playfully. "Oh? You think I'm vain?"

He laughed aloud. "No. But with your looks, any other queen would be…"

Demeter kissed his cheek. "Good answer. Now, which tomcats are we talking of?"

"Alonzo, of course. Why?"

"You said 'tomcats'. Certain 'tomcat-s'. And I think I know one who fits the bill…"

"The same one who was 'trapped' in a bureau drawer by an unknown assailant yesterday?" Munkustrap's eyes twinkled at Demeter. She smoothed the hair under her chin, ignoring his implication superbly: "I wouldn't know anything about that. I was out walking with Bomba."

Munk said slyly: "Yes, and for several hours, too. That's quite a long walk…are you sure," he leaned in close to stage whisper in her ear, "that you weren't keeping her away from the scene of the crime?"

Demeter said calmly, "It's a mistake to sleep in bureau drawers. Ironing boards fall over all the time. Likely a breeze knocked it into that drawer."

Munk gave a throaty chuckle. "You got me. Have I told you about the time I found them trading grooming tips?"

Since it was late at night she tried to suppress the burst of laughter and ended up squeaking like an adenoidal mouse.

"Alonzo was complaining about being black and white—said it's hard to keep both sides clean—and Tugger recommended shoe polish for the black. Of course," he said, stroking Demeter's arm thoughtfully, "that might not have been a completely helpful tip, now that I think about it. And then Alonzo told him he should try using porcupines on his mane—okay, now I'm sure they were just fooling around—"

"Still," Demeter said, "those two were probably preening and posing the whole time."

Munk gave her a squeeze. "Oh, Heavyside…" He shook his head dramatically and removed the paw rubbing her arm to run it through his headfur loftily. "Dem, you're going to have to sleep over there…I don't want anything to _muss_ my fur…"

She giggled. He continued, batting his eyes at the ceiling of their den, "I mean, I have _gray_ and _black_ stripes. Do you know how important it is that they stay _beautiful_? And this mane. This mane—" he fluffed his headfur—"makes queen squeal with longing. It's so _big_ and _fluffy_…Seriously; I don't know how they function…"

Demeter doubled over with laughter. His imitations were spot-on. She wondered if he used to do this often while growing up with those vain tomcats—it seemed like he'd had practice. "You must have done this before."

He nodded, now rolling his hips like Tugger. The motion made Demeter slide partially off, still clinging to his shoulder fur. "Yep. Did Tugger impressions for Alonzo. Did Alonzo impressions for Tugger. And Tugs and I both took turns doing Macavity…"

Immediately he stopped, realizing the implications of what he'd said. He glanced quickly at Demeter.

Demeter grew quiet, and kept her firm grip on his shoulders. She tucked her head under his chin.

The mood of laughter died out in their den. The silence stretched on, growing cold and thick with things unspoken but remembered.

Demeter buried her face in his gray fur. "Munkustrap." Her muffled tone said clearly that she was very glad he was there.

He brought his arms back around her, holding her more tightly than before. "Yes. Always."

Demeter twitched once, and then—it was over. In the circle of his arms, the fear passed, and she was safe again in her cozy den with her handsome, capable mate, and there was nothing wrong at all.

Even noises from outside wouldn't bother her now.

Demeter raised her chin slightly to assure Munkustrap that she was alright, and gazed into his steady gray eyes, which were clouded with concern. She let her own green eyes grow heavy-lidded, languorous.

His claws ran gently through the fur on her lower back, tracing intricate lines. "Sleepy, Dem?"

She reached back and caught one of his paws, adjusting it slightly. "No. You?"

He leaned forward. "Less and less."

Their lips met in the middle.

Demeter's ears jumped forward automatically as they caught another sound floating around in the nighttime outside, closer than before. She ignored it, easily, willfully, pressing herself deeper into gray fur underneath her. She breathed out happily, having discovered a solid cure for nighttime tremors.

But when the noise came from the entrance of her den, she really had to look. Munkustrap's low, frustrated growl matched her own feelings perfectly. Together they glared at the den's doorway…

Bombalurina marched in, fur sticking up wildly, looking indignant and very much roused. She dropped down to all fours and shuffled over, planting herself right next to Munk and Demeter. Her pout was comical. Or, it would have been, if Demeter had been in the mood for humor.

"Bomba!" she hissed. "What—"

"Don't ask!" her sister said, staring wildly back at the doorway. "I'm not going back there, I can't take it, no more, not tonight, I swear…" She finally looked toward Demeter and seemed mildly surprised to find Munkustrap lying there beneath his mate. "Oh. I thought you'd be on patrol…"

Demeter felt Munk's chest expand and contract greatly, but he said only: "No. Alonzo."

Bomba nodded, frowning, paying absolutely no attention to the expressions of her sister or her sister's mate. She settled back against the wall of the den and started fiddling with her nails, examining the red color and flicking the tips. "So how was patrolling?"

"Great. Just. Great."

"Wonderful," Bomba said, distractedly.

Demeter bit her lip hard and forced herself not to yell: "_Why-are-you-not-in-your-den?_"

Bomba rolled her eyes but continued picking at her nails. "Bad company."

"_He's your mate_!"

"Not tonight!" She settled herself in more forcefully, a stubbornness stiffening her attractive features. Demeter could see there was no way, short of explaining in explicit detail why, to get Bomba to leave the den.

"Not tonight," Munk muttered, gently pushing Demeter off towards the angry red queen.

"_Not tonight_…" Demeter was going to kill that cat.


	3. MungojerriexTantomile

Tantomile opened one eye and raised one ear, the ones not buried in orange-and-white tabby fur. She then lifted her head, curious, to peer towards the den opening.

Beneath her, Mungojerrie groaned, shifting slightly to rub his ear. "What was that?"

She took a moment, and then responded easily: "Demeter's very displeased."

"Nightmares or something, is it?" He scratched his other ear for good measure and dropped the paw lazily over his head, never once cracking open an eyelid.

"No. Sister."

"That's not very nice," Jerrie remarked. "I'd be happy to help out my sister. Rumpleteazer ever needs a paw; I'd give it to her."

Tanto smirked, although Jerrie couldn't see it, and dropped her lips to his ear: "Not if she interrupted something _in progress_…"

Jerrie's eyes finally popped open. "What? Bombie walkin' in on Demi and Munkus? Oh, Heavyside, what I would give to see that!"

The psychic queen laid her head back down on Mungojerrie's chest. "Which? Bombalurina walking…or Demeter and Munkustrap…?" She left the implication clear.

He scoffed. "You know what I mean: all of their expressions, that's all." He raised an eyebrow at the queen. "Cori's right, Tanto…you do have a dirty mind."

He felt her smile grow wide.

"Well, he and I have different ideas about 'dirty'. That's just one of the problems of having linked brains."

Jerrie gave consideration, tilting his chin. "Other problems? Like what?"

She sighed. "Having no secrets comes to mind."

He whispered naughtily, "I think that's the same problem, Darlin'." His paws started drifting. She batted them away.

"Stop, Jerrie," she whispered, rolling away to face the low den ceiling above. "Coricopat's asleep right now. I have to keep my responses low and steady or I'll wake him. And I'm simply too tired to actively block anything out."

"Yeah," he grumbled. "I was havin' a nice sleep too, and then Demeter had to get all screechy."

Tanto said mildly, "She's been through a lot."

"Not tonight, she hasn't!" Jerrie pursed his lips, paws folded behind his head, giving the ceiling a stern, warning look. "There's no reason to get screechy and wake us up."

"Oh, I don't know," Tanto whispered, low and mildly suggestive, "I'd be pretty annoyed if it happened to me."

Jerrie turned his head to grin at her. "But you wouldn't screech."

She was forced to admit that she wouldn't screech.

He said, wonderingly, "I've never heard you screech…or yell…or snap…or moan with passion—"

She smacked him heatedly.

He snickered. "Careful. You might wake Cori with that wrath of yours."

"This," she said, primly, "is not wrath. It's propriety."

Mungojerrie rolled over so his face hovered above hers. "What does it matter? We're the only two here…"

"Cori!"

"He ain't here. Besides, you said he was asleep…"

"Not for much longer if you continue in this way."

"What way?" His smirk was wide. "_This_ way?"

Tanto smacked him again, flushing. "Cease."

Jerrie murmured, "Am I getting to you, Tanto? Because usually you say 'cease and desist'…"

"Cease and desist."

"Mmmm…"

"_Don't wake Cori_!" she hissed, hoping the spike in her temper wouldn't be enough to jerk her brother out of deep sleep. She let her mind send out a tendril to check…No. Coricopat was asleep. He was still asleep, but she didn't know how much longer she could keep it that way.

Tanto rolled right into Mungojerrie; face inches away from his own. "Jerrie. Cori needs his rest. Our abilities do better when we've had rest…"

"Well then," he whispered huskily, running his tongue over his teeth in a manner that made her flush red, "You'd better block him out. He won't want to be a part of what happens next…"

Tantomile, wisely, did as he said. There were some things she had no intention of sharing with her twin brother…

* * *

**A/N: This pairing may seem random, but in my defense they are standing together the entire "Naming of Cats" song in the movie. Clearly, they are living together. There can be no other explanation! *giggles maniacally* **


	4. AlonzoxCassandra

He moved as silently as he could. A step over an old film reel; a stretch to the side of a broken wine rack that still smelled slightly of the wines it had held, reds and whites and pinks and every other type of wine all mixed together and all settling softly under the still, calm air of Alonzo and Cassandra's den.

Cocking an ear forward, he placed a careful paw one step ahead into the blackness of the den. It came down on a soft cloth—linen texture, a little worn, with a plump new pillow underneath. The bed. He hesitated. This part took a little more care—

"Lonz?"

Cassandra's sultry, sleep-thickened voice made him stiffen, but her exploratory paw running down his chest paralyzed him completely. Her nails, sharp enough to slice, skimmed lightly over his skin, taking their time to trace the outlines of his shoulders.

He heard the smile in her tone. "You're back."

Lips parted, he took in a shallow breath, and suddenly felt warm, soft, but insistent lips pressing against his own. His eyes widened, and his blood temperature dropped by at least ten degrees.

Her freely-roaming nails alternately caressed and dug into his back and shoulders, pulling and coaxing him down beside her on the bed.

He let out a sound that might have been a groan, but it was effectively muffled by the Abyssinian queen's firm kiss.

Cassandra's finger trailed lazily up towards his face, passing over his throat to do so, and catching unexpectedly on the leather collar in place there. The paw froze, fingering the collar as if to ask if it really, truly, was a collar, and then Cassandra gasped and dropped out of the embrace.

"You're—you're not Alonzo!" Her voice was raised in alarm. She scrambled back, panic audible.

He stuttered, "I—I-"

A low, feral growl came from the opening of the den, and a large tomcat flew through the air, tackling the intruder roughly, slamming him into the hard floor. Cassandra screamed at the sudden attack.

Triumphantly, "Gotcha, you mangy, rotten, no-good furball! I'll teach you to make time with my—" Alonzo paused, blinking very hard. Delicately he sniffed the cat beneath him. In astonishment, "Munkustrap?"

Munkustrap winced, rolling his head. "Yeah."

Alonzo scrambled back, giving the Jellicle Protector full autonomy. "Munk! I'm sorry! But…" he sounded slightly suspicious, "what in Heavyside are you doing in my den? In the middle of the night? With my Cassandra?" He definitely sounded suspicious, as though newly realizing that Munkustrap and the Rum Tum Tugger were, in fact, related.

"Looking for you." Munk pushed himself up, leaning heavily on his elbows. In the pregnant silence, he could hear Cassandra's sharp intake of breath and practically feel the waves of heated embarrassment (and indignation) radiating off of her. He fought a flush and explained for both of them:

"I saw that Plato was out on watch—thought you were in here—didn't want to wake your Cassandra—"

Alonzo cut him off, tersely: "Yes. But why are you even out and about?" The question hung heavy in the air.

Munk sighed loudly. "I _was_ with Dem. But Bomba showed up, and it's another night of 'Dem-help-me-my-mate-is-impossible' so I just left them to chew that over."

Alonzo raised both eyebrows and looked at Cassandra, who seemed to be burning with embarrassment. She shrugged weakly.

"So." Alonzo fought a smile. "You thought you'd come and wake me up?"

"Actually, I was hoping you'd help me hogtie Tugger and dump him in that old refrigerator until he promises to behave."

Alonzo examined his claws. "Tempting. But I'd rather not. Just cleaned my nails, you see."

In light of the fact that Alonzo seemed perfectly willing to tackle an unknown assailant with glee, Munk felt as if this was a rather poor excuse.

"I see." Munk's tone was wry. "Well, in that case, I'll go enlist someone else. Plato, maybe."

"You do that."

When Munkustrap's gray striped tail disappeared outside, Cassandra let out a sigh. Alonzo waited, and she said:

"I'm sorry, Lonz. I thought he was you."

"I know. I heard."

"You heard?" She sat up indignantly. "Then why did you let me _kiss_ him?" They both knew "kiss" was an understatement. Her normally sleek fur was bristled with outrage.

Alonzo stepped smartly onto the bed, letting his paws sink into the plush on either side of Cassandra's slender hips. He laid a somewhat forceful kiss on her lips, as if claiming back something that had been taken from him.

Cassandra relaxed, sliding her arms around his collar-less neck as his arms came to wrap around her sides, lengthening the kiss into something deeper and sweeter. Finally, they broke apart with a mutual sigh.

"I was trying to catch him in the act," Alonzo admitted, sounding slightly ashamed of himself.

Cassandra gave him a firm swat to the rear. "Leave it alone. You're my mate, and I would never cheat on you." Her tone was sharp. "Never."

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against her collarbone, gently nuzzling her slim neck. "I know," he sighed. Then, abruptly, before she could speak again, he kissed her.

This one was soft and gentle. Cassandra sighed.

"Sorry. Sorry for not stepping in sooner. Sorry for waking you up." Alonzo knew how much Cassandra loved her beauty sleep. And he was glad she was choosing to take it in their den in the junkyard, instead of her owner's fancy digs in the upper city.

"It's fine." She kissed him again, and wriggled to her side. Cassandra always slept on her side. She picked up his paw and draped it neatly over her waist to the effect of tucking in a blanket. "Glad you're back. But all that excitement has worn off now. I'm beat." She settled back into the pillow, facing away from him. She was clearly still embarrassed.

Alonzo's tone was wry. "Oh?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"And what exactly were you doing to Munkustrap when I came in?"

Cassandra jerked upright. Her blue eyes flashed with anger. "Why-? You—you know well—you were _listening_—don't push it, Alonzo!" The last part was a snarl.

"Easy, Cassie. It's just," he shrugged, a naughty smile playing about his lips, "now I'm actually here. Me. Your loving mate."

Cassandra flopped down into his side. "And you make a lovely pillow. Thanks. Goodnight."

"Cass?"

"Lonz."

"Cass…"

"Oh, _Lonz_…"


End file.
